


A Man and His Horse

by Wind_Ryder



Series: Tumblr Fics [14]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Clydesdale, Horses, M/M, retirement fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-18
Updated: 2014-05-18
Packaged: 2018-01-25 16:06:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1654490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wind_Ryder/pseuds/Wind_Ryder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Lestrade retires from London first and takes up a small cottage in Sussex. In his waiting for Sherlock to join him, he takes in a rescue horse. An old, injured Clydesdale workhorse abandoned.</p><p>The horse gets to following Lestrade around and he jokingly calls it Sherlock.</p><p>When Sherlock does join him in retirement, Lestrade worries that the horse might be a bit hostile. Instead both Sherlocks get along famously.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Man and His Horse

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Aithilin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aithilin/gifts).



> This series contains a stand alone stories that were prompted or otherwise posted on my tumblr page. They have not been beta'd and are just flights of fancy.
> 
> Feel free to let me know if you see any mistakes.

                                                  

The Clydesdale was a tired, weary, old thing with a long shaggy mane and excess hair. Lestrade didn’t groom him nearly as much as all the society types thought was appropriate, but the horse didn’t mind. It had a bad back, and its legs were insistently lame most days. Lestrade hadn’t cared one bit. He’d seen more than enough pain and death in his life.

 

He went out every morning, brushing his thick coat and picking his hooves with care. He detangled the worst of the mane, and then he wandered about the paddock to ensure that the fencing was still upright and there were no obvious problems. The horse marched after him each time he went for his walk, pushing his heavy head against Lestrade’s arm whenever he stopped.

 

Jokingly, he called the Clydesdale “Sherlock.” It was black and white, with a great white face. His pink nose wiggled often, and he liked to mouth at Lestrade’s shirt. Lestrade was even confident the horse enjoyed teasing him. Once, the great beast even managed to wriggle Lestrade’s phone from his pocket, and seemed to laugh in great huffs of air while Lestrade tried to yank it back.

 

“You barmy bastard.” Lestrade told him fondly, giving the horse a firm pat on his neck.

 

Sherlock the Clydesdale was wary of visitors. He didn’t like the stable hands, brayed and kicked at anyone who was even seen or interpreted as a rider, and laid his ears out flat to anyone who was seen standing beside a wagon. He had priorities, and Sherlock’s retirement with Lestrade was going to be spent eating apples, hay, and grass. Anyone who though otherwise could get a good kick. At least, in Sherlock’s opinion.

 

Lestrade thought the Clydesdale was terribly amusing, and didn’t feel compelled to push too hard at it. He just liked working with the horse. It was peaceful and relaxing, and it took his mind off the horrors of London.

 

He wrote back to Sherlock the Detective and John frequently. He asked them how they were doing, and he wrote about life in Sussex. It was lovely. It really was. Though, he had to admit, it was kind of lonely. He spent many hours out in the paddock with Sherlock the Clydesdale.

 

“How’re you doing old man?” He asked Sherlock the Clydesdale, patting him and smiling while the horse huffed air in his face. “Yeah. Me too.” He agreed, looking out over the grounds. His legs were hurting more and more, and his back ached. He sat down on a fence rail, arching his spine and twisting it to get more comfortable. Sherlock stood sentry at his side, falling asleep on his feet whenever they waited in one spot for too long. “It’ll rain soon.” Lestrade commented, looking up at the sky. “You can smell it in the air.” Sherlock the Clydesdale’s head drooped as he started to drift more and more. “Sherlock’ll be coming up soon. I hope you like him. He’ll be up for a visit on the weekend.” Sherlock the Clydesdale was utterly disinterested in Lestrade’s statement. He was out for the count, and Lestrade smiled at him. “Good man.” He said fondly before falling into silence and watching the field.

 

Lestrade had set up the cottage in the spring, but a series of cases and assignments had kept Sherlock the Detective in London until it was nearing winter. Lestrade half expected Sherlock to not come over once again. It wouldn’t be the first time they arranged a get together that ended in a no-show. When the knock finally came on Lestrade’s door towards the early evening on Saturday, Lestrade couldn’t help but be slightly surprised.

 

The Detective’s dark curls had streaks of grey in them, and there were slight creases around his eyes. He was getting older, losing his baby face at long last. He was  _distinguished_ , as John’s blog had taken to calling him. He even walked with a cane now, because a case gone wrong had destroyed his left knee for good. He was only walking as much as he was because he was so determined, but it was there.

 

“Look at you.” Lestrade breathed out, reaching to touch the Detective’s face.

 

“Hello, Graham.” Sherlock greeted, smiling cheekily at him.

 

“Brat.” Lestrade gave him a light cuff on the ear before pulling him in for a hug. “How’ve you been?”

 

“Good. I’ve…missed you.” He looked questioning, as though discerning if it was a proper emotion to convey.

 

“Me too. You I mean. I’ve missed you too.” Lestrade agreed, giving him a firm squeeze. There was an annoyed whinny from outside, and he laughed. Looking over his shoulder he caught sight of his horse at the fence, dancing his front hooves insistently. “I’ve got to give Sherlock an apple. Come to meet him?” He looked at Sherlock questioningly, worried that maybe he wouldn’t be amenable to the horse’s name.  Sherlock didn’t seem to even notice, he just glanced about the kitchen and snatched a couple apples for himself. Washing them briskly, he motioned for Lestrade to lead the way, and began cutting wedges as he followed the retiree to the Clydesdale.

 

Lestrade glanced between Sherlock and Sherlock nervously. He wasn’t sure how he was meant to go about the introduction. Sherlock the Detective smiled towards the horse in a gentle and soft way that Lestrade had never truly seen before. “Hello, Sherlock.” Sherlock said, holding out his free hand towards the Clydesdale’s muzzle. It sniffed him for a few seconds before nudging his food away and motioning insistently towards the apples. “May I?” Sherlock asked, voice modulated peacefully.

 

“Yeah, yeah go ‘head.” Lestrade agreed, watching in awe as Sherlock took a wedge and held his palm open for Sherlock to slurp it up into his mouth. The Clydesdale chomped happily, and then licked Sherlock’s palm with his meaty tongue. The Detective smiled in response. “You’ve done this before.” Lestrade realized.

 

“I used to own a horse.” Sherlock agreed. “A long time ago.”

 

“Did you?”

 

“She died.” Sherlock said, passing out another wedge.

 

“I’m sorry.” He was. Sherlock was rather good with the horse. In response, it was clear that the Clydesdale had broken his trend of loathing everyone save Lestrade. It was surprisingly refreshing. “You didn’t get another one?”

 

“No.” Sherlock replied. “He’s a good horse.” Lestrade beamed at his partner.

 

“Yeah. I have a thing for the tall, dark, and broody ones. They like to follow me around, and I like to feed them.” Both Sherlocks gave him the same expression of amused annoyance. It was perfect. “Do you want to go for a walk? And then dinner?”

 

“Sure. Will Sherlock be coming too?” The Detective motioned towards the Clydesdale.

 

“It’s not like we could stop him if we tried.” Lestrade agreed, before ducking under the fence and helping Sherlock wriggle through. The Clydesdale breathed out loudly and then started to plod after them. Lestrade smiled. He could get used to this. He really could. 

 

                                               

**Author's Note:**

> Got a prompt you want filled? Want to just say hi? Let me know!
> 
> falcon-fox-and-coyote.tumblr.com


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